Shadow Lands
by hel1234
Summary: "Evil stirs once again in Gondor." Old friends are turned against eachother as love turns to jealousy and bloodshed. Friendships are put to the test and battle's mean consequence.
1. Default Chapter

A ray of sunlight shone through the great halls, lighting up the beautiful carved-stone pillars, and making the silence and emptiness seem fuller. The once full Hall of Edoras was now empty and sad; no one entered. The sun caught the outline of a man pacing up and down the chamber, a man whose face was handsome but tired. His tiredness was the result of many sleepless nights, and the worry of the rumours facing him. He continued to pace up and down, pondering his mind for just a little patch of lightness in a sea of darkness. The young King of Rohan was troubled. Finally, he retreated to sit upon his high throne, and remember the laws of his fathers and the loyalty to his subjects. But, somehow, he didn't doubt that his love would overthrow his duty as King.  
At that very moment, the grand oak doors at the end of the chamber spread open, and in walked a tall, fair-haired man, with grey eyes, and a grey cloak. His head was held high, and his face was kind.  
"Faramir!" the king called. And for the first time in weeks, he smiled.  
"My dear brother, how long it has been since you have seen me." He walked over and laid his hands on Faramir's shoulders. Faramir knelt down and bowed deeply.  
"Eomer." He murmured, and then he got to his feet and beamed at his friend.  
"Alas, it has been a time too long since I last saw you. But, then I had brought good tidings. The Lady Aowen is with child, no greater joy has passed me since the day I met her, but that is the only good tidings I bring." He paused, his face growing grave.  
"Evil stirs once again in Gondor. King Ellesar does not seem himself, he rides alone and far into the night but returns by dawn. He will not speak to anyone. His queen, Arwen, seems distant - "  
"Arwen?" Eomer shot suddenly. Just the sound of her name soothed his heart. He remembered that summer eve not so long ago where they had declared they're love for each other without words. How he longed to see her once more, to touch her, to be with her. But she was Aragorn's love, he couldn't possibly be with her. Aragorn. Where there had once been brotherly love and respect, there was that but with envy and jealousy too. He was snapped out of his thoughts by Faramir's voice.  
"She bids well, and sends message to you: Do not forget." He paused for a moment and then went on.  
"I hope that is sufficient. Now I must ask you to come to Gondor and take council with King Ellesar, for I have hope that he will speak with you." Eomer studied the young face, and realised with a jolt of surprise how much this man cared for and admired his king.  
"That I shall." He said, smiling weakly. Faramir's face showed his relief.  
"Will you ride with me?" he asked the king.  
"No, I must prepare myself. You go on, warn the king of my coming." Faramir saluted and then walked quickly from the king. Arwen, thought Eomer. O my darling Arwen.  
  
*  
  
The men from the village said they found the body on the plains. A young man, they said, looked western. Sad it was, they said, three arrows in the chest, must have been mighty quick.  
They brought the body up to the healer's house and he was laid there. The king went down to pay his respects and comfort the family. But there was no family, they told him, he was foreign. Eomer walked through the door and into the small room where a body lay on a table. He felt as though an iron fist had just clenched his heart, he lost his balance and had to lean on the table for support. There was no doubting this handsome young face. It was Faramir. 


	2. Realisation

The evening was warm and the sky was fading into a light pink as the dark- haired man climbed off of his horse. He breathed in the scented air, and felt his body relax slightly. Wasn't it here, he had stood with Arwen and told her of all the love he felt for her? Wasn't it here he had told her he would love her forever? Yet now, that all seemed so surreal, so old. She had declared her love to someone else; she had declared her love to another king, Eomer.  
Aragorn, King Ellesar, King of Gondor and Arnor, Heir of Isildor, had made up his mind. He would declare war on Rohan; he would smite them and kill Eomer. King Théoden had been foolish to leave his crown to Eomer, Aragorn had once valued the friendship of the king's nephew greatly, but now, he realised he was nothing more than a worthless, heartless boy, not worthy to be king of such an honourable nation. He sat amongst the fallen leaves and leant his back upon a tall oak tree. He had just closed his eyes when a rustling alerted his ears.  
He jumped up, and saw, to his surprise, a tall, pretty woman standing a few feet from him. Her golden hair fell loosely to her waist, and her eyes were burning.  
"Aowen." He said.  
"What are you doing here?" She looked at him as though he was her worst enemy. How dare he speak to her? How dare he look at her? Angry tears rose into her eyes and slipped down her face. Was this the man she had once loved? A numb disbelief clenched her heart.  
"I am here to avenge my brother." She said, her voice in a snarl. Aragorn looked at her for a second, into those dark, soulful eyes. Did she believe him to be the murderer of Faramir?  
"I did not kill Faramir." He said quietly. How could she think he had done it? Did she really think it was him? He had wept here in this very place at the loss of his dear friend, he had wept tears of loss and anger. Eomer had killed him. He must have, just to spite Aragorn. Aowen's eyes grew wider and more tears spilled from them.  
"Do not lie to me, Aragorn. My brother has informed me of your reasons. But I must sa - "  
"Your brother?" replied Aragorn. This was insane.  
"Your brother killed Faramir, Aowen. Faramir was found in Rohan, please tell me how I managed to get to Rohan in one night and then be back in Gondor by dawn." He was angry now. Eomer was acting the innocent. It must have been him to invent such a lie. Aowen seemed shocked at the words.  
"My brother killed my husband? How dare you! Draw now, Aragorn, you are a murderer and a liar!" She drew her sword and approached him swiftly.  
"You know I will not." He answered quietly. Aowen's face slackened for a moment. This was the Aragorn she remembered, gentle, kind and wise. But it was soon hardened by the fact that he was lying so blatantly.  
"Then you shall die!" she cried, edging closer.  
"You shall die because I cannot bear to see the man I once loved become such a monster. Your blood will stain my hands forever, but you will not live whilst the blood of Faramir stains yours." She choked out these words, and raised her sword, ready to strike.  
"Then I shall be murdered, not avenged." He voiced.  
"For, never in my rule have I slain one of my own people. Never have I slain a friend. And never shall I." he spoke powerfully and loudly, kingly she thought. But then his voice became soft, and pained.  
"Lower your sword, Aowen. If I could have chosen one to succeed as king if I bore no children, I would have chosen Faramir. It pains me to know that you think me traitor and murderer. I loved him, as I would have loved a brother. Believe me. Believe me." She stared at him, her eyes filling with large, fat tears and slowly her sword-arm fell limply to her side and her sword landed with a soft thud on the grass. She fell to her knees, and pulled her hands to her face and cried, cried as though the damn of anger holding back her pain, and sadness had suddenly burst open.  
"He's gone!" she wept, her words smothered by her loud sobbing.  
"I want him back and he's gone!" Aragorn knelt down and wrapped his arms around her and held her close to him. Yes he was gone, he thought. Yes, he wanted him back. 


End file.
